


Tahiti

by Josselin



Series: Laurent Is a Girl [11]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Consensual Sibling Incest, F/M, Laurent is a girl, M/M, Multi, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 19:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17883965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josselin/pseuds/Josselin
Summary: Taking his suit off had been a dare from Laurent, of course.





	Tahiti

Taking his suit off had been a dare from Laurent, of course. The pool was private--just for their use--so it wasn’t like it was that much different to shed his swim trunks on the edge of the pool than to take his clothes off inside the bedroom of their private beach suite. But it felt different, watching Laurent twist out of her bikini in full daylight, admiring her body for a moment as the straps of fabric fell to the pool deck, and then losing sight of her as she jumped into the pool and became a shimmering streak of pink in the glistening water.

Auguste followed her, leaving his suit next to hers. They swam in the pool for a bit. Laurent wanted him to chase her, and he did, lazily swimming after her and reaching for an ankle or a wrist when he managed to get in reach. He couldn’t let himself try too hard, because she was actually a better swimmer than he was, faster at darting through the water, and he couldn’t let himself play games he couldn’t win.

If Damen had been there, he would have made Damen help him. Help him catch her, and hold her laughing and splashing in the pool, but also, he needed Damen’s help, with Laurent. He needed Damen to save him from losing himself in Laurent, from going under the surface of the water and just drowning at the bottom of Laurent, and probably dragging her down along with him. Auguste was so helpless with Laurent, sometimes, and Damen made it seem so easy. 

Damen wasn’t there, and Auguste acted as though he was humoring her, letting her tread closer to him and then laugh and splash away to the other end of the pool again. Her eyes were the same color as the sky, he observed, and everything was blue. He was drowning in blue, the pool, the ocean, Laurent’s eyes, the endless sky without a single cloud. 

He cornered her finally, against the far wall of the pool, opposite where they had left their bathing suits. He managed to get next to her as she was leaning against the pool wall and resting, and then, when she moved to push off the wall and get away again, he positioned his body behind her and got his other arm on her other side, caging her in.

He could see her move a second before she made it, about to duck under the water to go under his arm and escape that way, and he slid his knee in between her legs and pressed it against the pool wall. 

“I caught you,” he said, moving in closer, pressing her against the side of the pool. She had her hands resting on the edge, his hands just outside of hers. As he pressed her closer to the pool wall, he could feel her body against his chest, her back warm against his skin. She was almost sitting on his leg, as he used it to keep her pinned against the wall. 

“Aren’t you proud of yourself,” Laurent said, dismissively. “I let you catch me.”

He just laughed. That might be true, or it might be Laurent arguing in their usual fashion. Oddly he didn’t want to argue with her right now. He liked where they were, enjoying the sun and the warm water, he liked having her caught in his embrace. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, instead of rising to her bait about who caught whom. He tucked his face against the side of her neck, breathing her in. She smelled of the ocean, where she’d been swimming the day before, and of the salt they used in the pool instead of chlorine (which would have ruined her hair). 

She tilted her head a little bit, preening and allowing him better access. He trailed his lips from below her ear down her shoulder, and she shivered a little bit. He could feel her whole body react to his touch, from the trembling in her neck to the tension in her back to the way she squirmed slightly perched on his thigh.

“I want to do things to you,” he said, his voice low and his mouth close to her ear.

Laurent made a humming noise. “What kind of things?”

“Lots of things.” It was hard to pick what he wanted to do first, and among those things, what would sound the best as he described it to her. “I want to get hard, feeling you squirm against me.” 

Laurent moved her ass obligingly, deliberately, shifting against him.

“Then I want to lift you up, and put you over the edge of the pool--” that would put her ass at the perfect height for him to use his hands, and maybe, if he was feeling indulgent, his mouth.

Laurent’s breathing was changing, Auguste could tell. She was taking his mood and absorbing it and echoing it back to him. She lifted one of her hands from the side of the pool and lowered it into the water, probably to try to touch herself.

“Ah--” he made a warning noise.

Laurent froze. 

She brought her hand back up to the edge of the pool. “That’s good,” he told her, rewarding her with another brush of his lips down her neck. “Turn me on,” he told her. “Get me hard.”

It wasn’t going to take much, but it was still delicious to see Laurent processing the instruction. There was a tiny hesitation, at first, like there always was when he told her to do something, where she was clearly rebelling in her head and then pressing past it to cooperate. Then she was thinking, deciding how to work within the confines of his arms and the pool wall, and she kind of braced herself more firmly against the wall with her hands and arched back against him.

He made an appreciative noise.

Laurent shifted, slightly, leaving one of her thighs balanced on top of his, but shifting her hips for more movement, one of her feet on the bottom of the pool, up on her toes as she balanced and moved her hips deliberately.

She managed to align his half-hard cock into the crack of her ass, which made both of them groan a little, and gave her slow movements a bit more purpose. 

He shifted closer to her, pressing her up against the wall, and moved one of his arms to circle her front, fingering one of her nipples. It was peaked in his hand, and he touched it, not bothering to be especially gentle. 

If he pushed her up over the side of the pool, then she’d be pressed against the hard stone, after all. Her nipples might end up all red from the way she was going to squirm when he got his fingers on her. It was too bad he couldn’t fuck her in that position also.

“What if--” Laurent was talking “--someone comes?”

He laughed, low. “Oh, honey. It’s going to take a bit more than this, for me.” He pinched her nipple and she squirmed again.

“No, I mean, what if someone sees us.”

“Would you like that?”

“I like being on vacation,” Laurent said. “I like that no one knows us. I like that we can do this.”

“You like that other people see?”

“We look good, together,” said Laurent.

“We look fucking amazing,” Auguste agreed. “Everyone should see. The entire resort should walk past while I have you spread out over the edge of the pool and whimpering and think about how I’m going to put my cock in you and wish it was them instead--”

Laurent gave a small cry. “Touch me.”

There were footsteps approaching the pool. Auguste glanced that direction, marveling that their talk of someone else had summoned someone over to the pool. 

He squinted as he looked into the sun. He could see bare feet, and then shorts, and then a loose linen shirt, and then the outline of Damen’s curls in the sunlight. That was okay, Auguste decided. He’d felt a moment of uncertainty in his stomach about the arrival of a stranger, but Damen was okay. Auguste loved Damen.

Damen glanced over at where they had left their swimsuits.

“You’re not wearing any clothes,” Damen said. “Why aren’t you wearing clothes?”

“Why are you wearing clothes?” said Laurent, logically. Auguste loved Laurent.

“Are you fucking?” said Damen, eyeing them in the water.

“No,” Laurent and Auguste said, in chorus. 

Damen still looked skeptical. 

He bent over, and he held out his hands for Laurent, who took them, and then Damen stood back up and lifted her out of the water. 

Auguste watched, half-turned on and half-envious. Damen was so strong, he could just move like that, lift Laurent’s full weight without having to worry about bracing his back. Laurent out of the pool was distracting, too. She was dripping water onto the stone tiles and glistening in the sunlight. Her skin was lightly tanned from their time at the resort and her hair was wet and hanging down her back, where it dripped water down her spine and over the curve of her ass. 

Damen was taking in the same view, but from the front. “Sweetheart,” he said to Laurent, his voice lowering the way it did when he was turned on. 

“Touch me,” Laurent said, and Damen obligingly reached a hand out for her, resting on her waist. “Touch me,” Laurent said more insistently, and Damen slid his hand between her legs. She leaned a little against him. 

“You’re all wet,” Damen said, and it wasn’t clear whether he was commenting on the fact that she was soaking him with water from the pool by leaning against him, or observing that she was already turned on and slick. 

Damen’s eyes landed on Auguste. Auguste held his gaze and raised himself out of the pool, pushing up on the side of the deck with his arms and pulling his feet to stand up. Damen watched.

Auguste liked watching Damen watch him, when he could tell that Damen was turned on by his body. He’d liked that since when he first met Damen, years before he ever contemplated anything sexual ever happening between them, he’d still liked, deep down, that he knew Damen found him attractive. He liked Damen wanting him.

There was a double-sized lounger with a thick cushion fairly close to the pool, and Auguste nodded toward it. Damen nodded his agreement, and took a step that direction. 

Laurent protested that Damen stopped touching her. 

“Go over on the lounger, honey,” Auguste said. 

There was a stack of white towels next to the lounger, and Auguste took one and dried himself off a bit, wringing out his hair and then throwing the towel down on the top of the lounger to spread out on it. Laurent did the same, and then Auguste lay down on his back, and said, “Come here,” and managed to get Laurent settled next to him. 

“I have an idea,” Damen said. He still had his clothes on.

Auguste and Laurent looked his direction.

“I’ve been practicing,” said Damen, which didn’t clarify his intention, but then he scooted onto the lounger in between the two of them, and apparently he meant that he was going to get both of them off at once.

Laurent obligingly shifted her top leg to give Damen better access, resting her calf on Auguste’s waist and getting kind of in the way of Damen’s hand on Auguste’s cock. 

“You’re being selfish,” Auguste told Laurent.

“You’re being selfish,” Laurent said back, without heat. Her eyes fluttered closed and she was undulating against Damen’s hand. 

That was fine, Auguste decided. He wasn’t close, yet, but if Damen got Laurent off first, then he could take his time while fucking her and she would probably protest less. Auguste had seen some sun tanning oil, next to the towels, and he wanted to slick his fingers and slide them into Laurent and stretch her slowly. 

Oil was a good idea, actually. “Damen,” Auguste suggested. “There’s--next to the towels--”

Damen nodded, and his hands left off touching each of them for a moment. Laurent made a protesting noise, but then Damen’s hands returned to their multi-tasking, and he slicked Auguste’s cock with oil, and the feeling of his warm hand slick with the oil on Auguste’s cock was amazing. 

Auguste appreciated the sensation, and looked at Laurent next to him, with her eyes closed and her mouth slightly parted. 

“Is she close?” he asked Damen.

Damen nodded. “Should I--now?”

“Yes,” Auguste said. “I want to fuck her, after--”

Damen’s hand on Auguste’s cock stilled--his multi-tasking still had limits, apparently--and Auguste could see him slide two fingers deep inside Laurent, pressing against her g-spot. 

Laurent’s eyes blinked open and she arched. “Oh!”

Damen’s hand was still pressed against her, his fingers still working, and she blinked again and shuddered hard through a second orgasm. 

Auguste reached over and touched her face, gently. She pressed a kiss against his fingers.

Damen removed his hands, again, and reached for the oil a second time. 

When he brought his hand back, though, it wasn’t to reach for Auguste’s cock. Instead, he slid two fingers into Auguste’s ass. 

The way Laurent’s eyes blinked open seemed to indicate Damen had just done the same to her. Her mouth rounded into an attractive circle of surprise.

“Damen,” Auguste said warningly.

“I’m getting her ready for you,” Damen said. “You said you wanted to fuck her--” That didn’t explain why his fingers were in Auguste’s ass, though.

“Your multi-tasking needs work,” Auguste said.

Damen slid his fingers a bit deeper and found Auguste’s prostate. Laurent’s mouth widened a bit. 

Auguste ignored Damen’s presumptuous behavior for a moment and focused on Laurent’s reactions. Two fingers wasn’t too much for her, especially already relaxed from her first orgasms, but it was less foreplay than Damen was usually inclined toward. It was only another moment before Auguste felt a deeper stretch, as Damen added a third finger. 

Laurent squeezed her eyes shut, at the stretch, and then moaned a little at the feeling of the pressure inside. 

“Damen, put your--”

She was probably spoiled enough she wanted Damen to thumb her clit while he stretched her, and since she had Damen’s right hand, he seemed to oblige.

“Yes,” she hissed.

“How did you practice this?” Auguste asked, curious. He’d said he practiced, and he was doing well enough at touching both of them at once that he might have done just that, but how had he done that. Was it just with Laurent alone, using one hand on her while he did something else with his left?

“While kneading bread,” Damen said. “I started to train myself to use a different rhythm with each hand while I was kneading with each hand--”

He was unreal, Auguste thought, and he curled up on the lounger and shut Damen up mid-sentence by kissing him. 

“Roll over,” Auguste told Laurent, putting a hand on her shoulder and moving her around so that her back was to his chest. He tugged on her waist to draw her a bit closer to him, and then he lifted her top leg and shifted it back a bit to rest over the top of his hip. He was almost perfectly positioned, he thought. “Hold still,” he told her, and then he used one hand to spread her and the other to position himself, and pushed until the head of his cock had breached.

Laurent moaned. Auguste moved one of his hands to her hip, to brace her, and then he shifted to thrust in the rest of the way. 

“Oh, honey,” Auguste said, feeling inordinately fond. He slid a hand down Laurent’s hip to touch her clit. 

“Auguste,” she said, her voice conveying the same type of emotion.

Damen had taken off his shorts, while they had been distracted, and then re-oiled his hands wearing only his unbuttoned linen shirt. One of his oiled hands found Auguste’s ass.

“What are you doing, Damen?” Auguste murmured. On his side, with Laurent on her side in front of him, he was limited in how much thrusting was possible, but he had a slow rocking starting.

“Do you not like it?” Damen said, sliding two fingers inside of Auguste again. 

Auguste grunted. It felt good, though he didn’t want to tell Damen that. Laurent was shimmying with the smallest waves against his fingers on her clit, and inside she was warm and tight. Damen was shifting around on the lounger to behind Auguste, and the feeling of his chest against Auguste’s back was warm and affectionate. 

“You’re teasing me,” Laurent objected, using one of her hands to push at Auguste’s hand and try to convince him to use a firmer pressure. “Do it right--”

“You’ve already come twice as much as anyone else,” Auguste told her. 

Laurent scoffed as though that were a ridiculous argument.

Then, Auguste clutched at Laurent a bit tighter, because behind him, Damen had managed to get himself positioned and was pressing inside. Auguste could feel Damen’s groan against his back. 

The sun was warm; the sound of the ocean waves breaking on the sand was constantly filling Auguste’s ears. He felt as though the waves were the same type of motion as how they were fucking, with a slow roll of the hips back against Damen and forward into Laurent. 

Laurent was talking, saying something to Damen about how he was fucking Auguste, or something. It seemed mindless, and the words weren’t really registering. “Shh,” Auguste told her, but he gave in and touched her the way that she liked, feeling her excitement growing again and the tension in her body.

It was hard to describe the sound of the waves, to himself. Just this ever-present water sound that filled the entire trip. 

He’d felt emotionally on edge throughout their time in Tahiti. They’d landed and had a drink in the bar while the porter took their luggage to their room, and the bartender had nodded at Laurent and said, “Your wife?”

Auguste had pulled Damen to his side, and said, “My husband,” and then nodding at Laurent, “and our girlfriend.”

The bartender had just nodded agreeably and poured three drinks. 

It was that easy. 

He had traded the ever-present terror that someone was going to find out what he was doing for the sound of the waves in the background, and it felt like some kind of chemical high. He wanted to make out with Laurent in public for hours, to put a ring on her finger and claim her as thoroughly as he had Damen. He wanted to have this forever but never have to talk about it.

Laurent was close to coming, and as she tensed and gave a little cry a third time, Auguste pinched her thigh, hard.

Laurent rocked back a bit against him, jumping. “Auguste!” she objected. “I’m still coming.” He pinched her again, because she liked it, even if she liked complaining about it also. 

He rolled Laurent onto her front, trying to brace at least a portion of his weight on his arms so he and Damen didn’t squish her too much, and then let Damen do most of the work, setting the pace, and just letting the echo of Damen’s thrusts pass through him and into Laurent slowly, until his climax crested over him with slow pleasure like one of the white-tipped waves curling over on itself and then crashing down onto the beach. 

Damen kept fucking him, pursuing his own finish, with pleasant small aftershocks going through Auguste.

Afterward, Damen wiped them down with towels from the stack next to the chair, and rearranged them on the lounger. It wasn’t nearly thorough enough, to clean them off, but Auguste found that it didn’t bother him. Showering could be nice, he thought, but he didn’t have the drive he usually did to immediately go wash Laurent off. It was also nice to just lie in the sun on the lounger and watch Damen’s chest go up and down with his breath and stroke Laurent’s back absently.

“I like Tahiti,” Laurent mumbled.

“Don’t get sunburned,” Damen said. 

Auguste loved Tahiti, but he couldn’t manage to say anything. It was too much. He listened to the sound of the water, instead.

**Author's Note:**

> I got distracted by this fic when I was working on the next section of "The Job"! Back to Ancel next, I hope.


End file.
